


if all they told was turned to gold

by aeternaliternovae



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caduceus Clay Deserves Nice Things, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, M/M, POV Caduceus Clay, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27003958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeternaliternovae/pseuds/aeternaliternovae
Summary: Caduceus Clay was everything a cleric was supposed to be; he was pious, forthright, and devoted. He obeyed the will of his Goddess, and followed the path that destiny commanded.And he never, ever wanted.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 35
Kudos: 130





	if all they told was turned to gold

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much @k0bot for being the most amazing beta and friend, and fjorclay discord for the constant inspiration <3
> 
> Please note that work contains spoilers up through episode 111!

The last few months of his life were a short inhalation of chaos in the long meditative breath that made up Caduceus Clay.

Before this year, Caduceus was used to his steady routine as the protector of the Blooming Grove. For ten years he kept the rituals of his family alive through his solitary practice: wake up with the sun, make tea, tend to the blossoms of the dead, and sense the ever-encroaching sickness of the blight, insinuating itself between soil and bark and leaf. This slow infectious destruction was just as much of a presence as anything else in his sanctuary. After all, one does not keep watch over a garden of the dead for so long without growing accustomed to silent company.

And this was all fine. Folks of all kinds would come to help lay their dead to rest with him, and it was fulfilling work to help ease these people through the mortal ritual of mourning. What a gift it was to reassure honest people that it was okay to let go, that they could move on – same as the deceased already had. As such, he was used to existing in that moment for other people. He spent many years as a liminal space in the lives of others, as the steward of grief between despair and acceptance. He was a companion to moments when their loved ones were laid to rest, and that was hardly a terrible way to spend his youth.

Of course, that was before fate brought Caduceus’ chess piece to the table, and he learned that the short lifespans of those outside of his home forced them to grow up much quicker. How cruel, to be given no choice but to plummet towards adulthood in a matter of a few years instead of a proper span of decades. It was no wonder that history was so compelled towards destruction with death a much closer threat for most races.

His myriad misadventures with the Nein threw all of this into the sharpest relief. His very first journey with them was a shocking crash course on the range of what people were capable of outside of his isolated home. Freeing members of The Mighty Nein from slavers was a terrifying and strangely exhilarating experience, and a startling introduction to the outside world. With this team, every day presented a new opportunity for them to turn a crisis into a hope for a better future. He was needed, driven by the designs of the Wildmother. It was more than enough for him to ask for.

And yet.

There were times that he questioned his place in such things, heresy though it was. His initial purpose was simple – follow these adventurers, and the Wildmother would make sure he was given the tools to save the Savalirwood. 

The reality was much different than a straightforward crusade to save his home. Out in the world, he was met with much that made him turn to his faith for reflection and support. Morally grey choices, both from outside of and within his company. Ambition and avarice that warped minds. Cruelty. Politics. All of it was beyond Caduceus’ ken at times. 

As overwhelming as it was to be dragged into this undertow of chaos, Caduceus knew it felt right to be alongside the Nein. It was that faith that they were doing the right thing for regular people on both sides of the fight that made him sure that they were compasses pointed in the right direction in all of this, the corruption and confusion of the world at large. Each of them were important, valuable companions, and he knew that he wouldn’t have gotten this far, wouldn’t have saved the Blooming Grove, if it wasn’t for them.

And this was in spite of how different they were from one another. There was Jester, effervescent and bright and complex, learning that she could be the most important person in her own story; Beau with her forthright pursuit of agency; Caleb’s reincarnation into the kind of man he wanted to be; Yasha allowing her heart to bloom; Veth finding herself worthy of love, regardless of her shape; and Fjord, the man he once viewed as a kind of project to help guide who was starting to thrive without the darkness casting over his heart.

Fjord was someone he shepherded, encouraging the goodness inside him to make good choices and be a good man, but the reality is that Caduceus shifted from treating him as another person to help through an emotional transition, the same as someone mourning, to someone whose happiness he was genuinely invested in. It transcended the binary of mentor and mentee, and was a companionship that he valued, same as any of his other friends, a source of comfort and warmth and respite.

He admired Fjord’s ability to transform himself into the conduit that was needed for any situation. The short-handed reference to his abilities was deceit, but Caduceus saw it as much more than that. True enough, the basis of those skills of impersonation or disguise were rooted in deception, but beyond that was the uncanny talent to be a mirror held up to others to help them see a part of themselves, a thing they feared, something they desired. It was the intuition of knowing the nature of others, which was a trait that Caduceus thought they had in common. Fjord was an anomaly of being a person with a strong sense of self, despite the penchant for having a mercurial identity for the outside world to behold.

It was truly amazing to see Fjord and all of the others really prosper as they traveled together. Caduceus was a constant among a field of exploding stars, the people around him thriving, changing, adapting. All of his companions were rising to the challenges put in front of them, while Caduceus was a stone in a river. He helped to guide the current. He warned of dangers ahead. But the river still flowed, irrefutably, even if the water bent to him on occasion. 

A stone does not fool itself into thinking it can contain the water, and only helps it flow in the right direction. That was more than enough for him to ask for.

-

That feeling towards his fellow disciple of Melora never waned as the weeks and months passed. If anything, it only became a more resolute sentiment, the stalwart encouragement culminating when Fjord transformed at the forge. Caduceus sensed fear at the time from his friends, but there wasn’t a moment that the firbolg felt any himself. His confidence in Fjord was assured because he was a good man… one who made poor choices from time to time, as any mortal was wont to do, but a good man who surely had no choice but to be destined to do good.

Over time, their conversations evolved from simply learning to accept the ritual of meditation to deep theoretical discussions, over what constituted right and wrong, what religion and duty really meant to the Wildmother, how to use their abilities for good.

“Is it important to the Wildmother to be honest at all times?”

As Caduceus unpacked in their shared inn room, he concentrated thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t know.” It certainly wasn’t a question that Caduceus had thought of, but the beauty of being there for the half-orc’s first foray into religion was the ability to think about these kinds of questions. Honesty was just second nature to Caduceus – and usually, being forthright was what guided situations down the right path anyway – but he considered for a moment, sighing. “I would say... Well, do you feel that nature is honest, or do you feel that nature can lie? And does nature lie?”

It warmed him to see Fjord think about it for a moment, expression tinged with a shade of amusement before he spoke, the same as it always was whenever he allowed himself to think through something intriguing to him. “I think it can certainly be deceiving. Natural camouflage and colors and poisons and deterrents and all sorts of things. But it's also unyielding, it doesn't change for anyone.”

“Huh.” Funny, how a moment could illuminate the ongoing shift from Caduceus seeing Fjord as a fresh acolyte to a fully fledged believer. The few weeks since Fjord was reborn in the Wildmother’s embrace and started wielding the Star Razor was an exercise in Caduceus showing him the basics of faith, of revering your patron instead of fearing them, and instances like this made him feel _pride_ in how far his friend had come. “I never really thought of it that way. Well, I've been waiting on this.”

Strangely, he felt heat creep up the back of his neck as he reached into his pocket and felt the cool touch of patinated metal.

Probably because he held on to this token for so long, and it was making emotion well up in him to finally give it to its intended owner.

As Caduceus handed over the symbol of the Wildmother, he felt a swoop in his stomach at the dawn of a smile on Fjord’s face.

Obviously it was gladness to have judged him so well, to have known what sort of gift would please him.

And it made him _happy_ to hear Fjord chalk up their paths crossing to divine intervention.

He slept on the floor that night, listening to Fjord’s even, nightmare-free breathing from the bed.

More than enough.

-

His connection to the earth felt tenuous out at sea. Not because it wasn’t the Wildmother’s domain, of course, but because it wasn’t _his_. His tether to nature had roots. Those roots were part of an ageless cycle of the symbiotic balance between growth and decomposition, but even in the chaos of wildfires and new sprouts, there was certainty in how the ground worked – not out here. Fathoms of roiling ocean separated him from good, solid, reliable earth, and here, nature was at its most volatile. 

That creeping uncertainty wasn’t as prominent during the day when there was food to cook, work to do, all to the tempo of salt water spraying over the bow and the sun beating down onto the deck. But at night, when the others slept and conversation was contained to the hushed whispers over flasks between those on the night watch, the gaping chasm between Caduceus and honest dirt became impossible to ignore. From what he’d seen so far, nothing good came from dealings on the ocean.

Negotiating between the Empire and the Dynasty was, without question, the most stark instance of this sense of displacement for him. He understood that he was a simple presence in the middle of these political dealings. He certainly lacked the bureaucratic acumen that Beauregard and Caleb brought to the table, regardless of how much either of them hated such things for their inefficiency and cruelty. However, he knew that he at least lacked agenda or pretense. Like the rest of the Nein, he stood on the side of innocents who deserved a say in such things, despite never receiving an invitation to the negotiation table. If anything, he could manage to be a voice for the common folk. _That_ he understood. 

Now that the negotiations were over, the makings of an armistice at hand, the journey to Rumblecusp was unexpectedly fraught with strange dangers. The day was consumed by the dragon turtle chasing them, and although they had finally transformed it and outpaced it, Caduceus knew that he wasn’t going to feel quite at ease again until they reached land.

It was that evening, after losing any sight or sense of the creature, that Caduceus failed to find sleep. Usually he could lean on the discipline of meditation and breathing to help him rest, but it was all muddling up together – the discomfort at sea, the close brush with danger, all while still coming down from the war negotiations – and Caduceus couldn’t seem to will himself to be still.

When it seemed that sleep wasn’t anywhere close at hand, Caduceus extricated himself from his curled position in his too-short bunk and made his way to the galley, deciding that a cup of tea was the solution. As he moved through the ship, he heard the groan of wood, the snores of a crew member in their bunk, and the constant rush of the ocean, all muffled by the inherent chilled hush of being awake in the middle of the night.

The quiet was interrupted by soft clinking noises, and upon arrival to the galley he was greeted by the sight of Fjord ladling from a cast iron pot on the stove into an earthenware bowl, partaking of the stew left by Caduceus hours ago over still-warm embers for the night shift. “Ah, Mister Fjord,” he said, greeting him with a warm smile. “I see you’re having trouble sleeping as well.”

Fjord’s gaze whipped up, strands of black and white hair falling over his eyes. A shade of guilt flashed over his expression before he wryly smiled back. “You too? I didn’t think you ever did.”

“Not usually, no.” Caduceus joined him next to the stove, opening one of the small iron doors at the front and prodding the waning embers with a poker. The flames started to wake back up, and as he shut the door he flicked his hand to fill the kettle on the stove, manifesting from the few drops remaining inside. “Thought a spot of tea would set me to rights. Seems like you had something similar in mind?” Fjord didn’t have watch that evening. In fact, since the attack from the denizens of Uk’otoa, the captain was conveniently left off of the roster. That being said, he certainly wasn’t going to hold it against Fjord for helping himself to the night rations – there was plenty to go around, and Caduceus _had_ noticed an increase to his appetite since he took his new pact.

“Guilty,” Fjord smiled, sitting down at the nearby wooden table. “I was checking in with Orly on our course correction… and I wasn’t really feeling settled down from earlier, to be honest.” Silent for a moment, Fjord spooned stew into his mouth.

Caduceus joined him across the table, setting down and untying a cloth wrap of crusty rolls he baked the day prior. “Understandable.” While it wasn’t every day they squared off against a dragon turtle, mortal peril was usually closer at hand than the cleric liked. The scale of what they faced was enough to unsettle any of them, should a moment of sensitivity creep in. He wasn’t as rattled by combat as he once was, but it was less than a year ago that he was only fending off a wayward bandit at worst.

Although it had been a few weeks since the latest assault from Fjord’s former patron, the image of him falling was still burned in his vision, the half-orc’s body prone and lifeless on the deck a stark contrast to the hearty and hale man before him. The nauseating memory of Fjord’s chest shuddering with a final breath, of the dread and fear and anger and _unfair, unfair_ that coursed through Caduceus before he knelt before him, the blood and rain soaked deck a poor altar, hands on the diamond, and prayed…

Swallowing against sudden tight dryness in his throat, Caduceus offered him one of the rolls, which Fjord took silently, nodding in thanks with his mouth full, eyes crinkling. Fjord was here, alive, warm. And none the wiser to the twist of pain in Caduceus’ chest.

“So… how do you think this is all going to go down?”

Caduceus started, not realizing that his attention had drifted to the table between them. “Hm? Sorry?”

“This whole TravelerCon deal… Caduceus, are you alright?” Concern flitted across Fjord’s face as he set his spoon down.

The cleric forced his facial expression to relax into a placid one. “Oh, I’m fine – and I’m gonna be honest, I have _no_ idea.” His soft smile turned genuinely pleasant. “It’s probably gonna be a mess, but I think we’re expecting that to happen. It’ll be interesting, that’s for sure. I think what’s most important is making sure Jester gets through this okay, and we all know she’s going to be just fine. Everything else will follow.”

Caduceus saw his soft expression reflected on Fjord’s face, which somehow gave him a small measure of peace.

“Well, that makes me feel a little better. Between you and me, I just…” Fjord made a small discontented noise. “I’m feeling rather unsettled about the whole thing. But you’re right, we trust Jester, and that’s the reason why we’re doing this. Thank you, Caduceus.”

What happened next was strange. Caduceus’ hands were folded on the table, and as he was about to deflect and say it was nothing, calloused fingers rested over his. His stare darted down, and there were Fjord’s hands, warm dark green sprawled over cold grey. The protest died on his lips.

There were plenty of instances when their hands touched in the past. It was the nature of being adventuring compatriots. A helpful hand in battle, healing, even the more private moments when the two of them communed with the Wildmother sometimes involved the brushing of knees as they sat across from one another… but all of it was incidental or not on purpose. This was Fjord choosing to touch him, when he wasn’t typically an affectionate person, not like the way Jester was free with platonic touch.

“You’re much wiser than the rest of us,” Fjord murmured, fingers squeezing. The air felt very still around Caduceus, and he suddenly felt afraid to breathe too hard. “But I suppose that makes sense, given how long you’ve been able to become wise.”

“Oh, hardly wise,” Caduceus managed, unable to tear his gaze away from the hands atop his. “Ask any of my family, they’d be happy to tell you how much of an eccentric youth I am. I’m surprised Colton didn’t tell you all more embarrassing stories while he had the chance.”

Genuine confusion furrowed Fjord’s brow. “What do you mean? Like normal sibling reminiscing?”

Chuckling distracted Caduceus for half of a moment from the gargantuan task of keeping his hands still, despite the way the pressure made his pulse race. “Not reminiscing so much as dredging up recent history. I might be far older for a half-orc or a human, but I’m a young adult for a firbolg, all things considered.”

A breath of laughter passed Fjord’s lips. “Then you’re wise beyond your years. We’re lucky to have you.”

Caduceus let the compliment warm him, letting his vision drift up towards Fjord’s face. “I think we’re all a little bit lucky to have ended up here.” Here, where Fjord’s hold on his hands didn’t waiver. Where the paladin’s eyes were trained right on him, singularly focused.

Why?

Daring much, tentative and afraid of bursting whatever bubble was formed around them, Caduceus started to turn his hands upwards, feeling the slide of Fjord’s battle-worn fingertips dipping between forefinger and thumb, tracing the lines of his palms, exploring. Sensation skittered down his skin and goosebumps raised on his arms. Fjord, who he could usually read without any issue at all, was utterly indiscernible with his golden eyes unwavering from Caduceus’. “Fjord-”

As the kettle started to whistle, a sharp shriek in the air, Caduceus yanked his hands free of Fjord’s hold. Turning to hide the blush on his face, he clambered over the bench to stand and grab the kettle, taking it off of the heat.

What was _that_?

The silence was absolute between them as Caduceus grabbed a cup with nervous hands. “Tea,” he said uselessly to the counter. “Do you want any?”

There was a pause. “…no, I’m good.”

“No problem,” he responded smoothly, belying his nerves as he poured water into the cup. “Help yourself if you change your mind.” Turning back to face Fjord, he smiled, ignoring the bewildered hummingbird cadence of his heart and the slight furrow between Fjord’s eyebrows. “Gonna take this back with me. G’night, Mister Fjord.”

“Good night, Deucy.” Fjord quietly responded to Caduceus’ already retreating form, a tinge of _something_ in his voice. The cleric’s mind was too much of a confused, chaotic storm for him to make sense of what just happened, to properly articulate what any of that could have _meant_ , and if he learned anything this year, it was to know when to sound a hasty retreat.

He hoped Fjord didn’t notice that he neglected to use any tea leaves, and was just carrying a cup of hot water back to his bunk.

-

Rumblecusp was worse than he imagined.

The entire ordeal was one unsettling problem after another. From the start, the conflict with Vokodo was an endless cycle of losing things, losing memories, swamps trying to devour them, and one of the most harrowing sessions of combat he’d ever experienced. He had also nearly put everyone in danger with his lack of resilience against Vokodo, and it still wasn’t sitting right with him. He had put _Fjord_ in danger, and although he tried to joke away the situation with some levity, he felt embarrassed shame that his mind wasn’t strong enough to resist.

None of it prepared him for just how bad TravelerCon was.

It just didn’t sit right with him to manipulate so many people. He didn’t trust Artagan, thought he was a capricious potential danger to his fellow cleric, but it was important for them to see this through for her and for Jester to make her own choices on how they would deal with this.

Then the visions started, becoming an encroaching dread on his consciousness that made it very clear that they were, as always, in over their heads.

...and maybe it was because of how disorderly and stressed his mind was feeling that he didn’t quite realize how bad of an idea it was to try to con folks into following another god. Caduceus was pretty familiar with his place in the world, but he could see his comrades were a little shaken by the stark reminder of how small their existences were in the face of divinity once the mouthpiece of the Moonweaver arrived.

Most gods were not known for mercy against the guilty, and it was a surprising twist of fate that led to Artagan’s pardon. In large part, Jester’s devout support of him, even through his crimes and his avarice, must have reflected well on him.

He was afraid for a moment that Jester was going to be caught in the crossfire between this immortal being dispute, but with a thrum of energy, Fjord shot forward to her rescue. Like a heroic knight, he swept in just when he was needed to help spare their friend from getting tangled up in a worse fate.

He was happy he was there. _Genuinely_.

And he was happy for the way it seemed like they were looking at one another.

It certainly didn’t improve the sour mood he was in, but he was glad all the same.

-

Of course, it wasn’t long before someone noticed. Caduceus didn’t exactly have a poker face, and his friends had their moments of being perceptive. It was during their walk back to the Heaven Falls when Beau sidled up alongside him, clapping him on the arm. “S’matter with you?”

He stumbled for a moment, exhaling a soft ‘oof’ as he tried to find his steps again, then raising an eyebrow at the monk. She lifted her hand defensively. “Sorry, man. Just checkin’ in on you.”

The ruffle of passing irritation smoothed out, and Caduceus replied with a soft quirk of his lips. “Thank you, Beau. I’m fine – and I’m probably not the person you should be checking in on, right?” He looked ahead, and her gaze followed his towards the front of the group where Fjord and Jester were blazing a trail through the foliage.

They were laughing over something, and Caduceus felt happy for them.

“Nah,” Beau drawled after a moment of watching the pair up ahead. “It’s you I’m worried about. You’re bein’ all…” Her hand wiggled in the air, the meaning of the movement only known to her. “Iunno. _Squirrelly_.”

“Squirrelly.” Both of his eyebrows rose. “I think that’s a first, getting called that. So do you mean… energetic? Great vision? Squirrels have great vision. Or do you mean like a chipmunk? Did you know that chipmunks are squirrels?”

“Ugh, _no_. I mean you’re being _weird_.” Beau leveled a glare at him, her usual facial stance she took when she was sizing someone up. “I mean, okay, weirder than usual. You got that eccentric weirdo hermit thing going on that’s your charm point, but I mean something different. You’ve been kinda off since last night, and you’ve been havin’ those visions, and I wanted to see what was up.”

Ah. “Nothing’s up,” he reassured, expression perfectly pleasant. “Just looking forward to getting back to the continent, that’s all. I’m pretty used to divine projections, I can handle a vision or two.” If his hand tightened on his staff as they walked, that was his business.

“Uh huh.” Voice dripping with skepticism, Beau’s eyes narrowed at him.

They went on for a long few moments like that, Beau assessing him, and Caduceus remaining placidly focused on not tripping on roots as they walked.

“Wanna know what I think?”

The corners of Caduceus’ eyes crinkled. “Oh, always.”

“ _I think_ ,” she forged on, undeterred by his pleasantness. “That you’re all wigged out by us talking about our plans, and you’re shit at being honest when you need something.”

Traitorously, his vision jumped back to the front of the group, then back to Beau. The monk sometimes had the habit of wielding her impressive Expositor talents against their group like the wrong kind of knife for the job, carving when a delicate hand would probably go further. He always appreciated her genuine bluntness and sharp wit, but he usually wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

“That would be something,” he sighed.

Another equally positive and negative trait of Beau’s was that she could smell blood – sensing weakness, she pressed him. “And it seemed like you were only really off after that Moonweaver bullshit and we asked you about your plans and you had that whole ‘paying off debts’ thing. And like… you know you don’t owe us any debts, right? It’s prolly the opposite, you’ve saved our asses tons of times.” Caduceus watched with vague sympathy for the flora as Beau used her staff to bat away some vines from their path. “I’m just saying that it was kind of a dodgy answer, and I wanna know what it is you really wanna do.”

He could see why her interrogation technique could be successful to targets, just by the sheer force of her demanding words. Her education on subtlety and nuance was a slow and steady thing, according to Fjord. “Certainly didn’t mean to come off that way, but I meant what I said – I think we all have unfinished business to attend to, and I’ll be happy with everyone moving on once they’re on the right path.”

If Beau rolled her eyes any harder, she was going to get whiplash. “Dude, you are _not_ listening to me. I’m not asking for what you think, I’m asking for what you _want_. Totally different things. Like me? Literally the last thing I want us for us all to ‘go on the right path’. I don’t want us to do different things. Thinking about that shit freaks me the fuck out.” A long moment passed before Beau looked at him with significance. “Now you go.”

Caduceus was known for his perceptiveness. He always had a sense for what people thought or meant. People were simple animals a lot of the time, and despite all of the complex machinations of modern society, there were usually just a handful of righteous and selfish needs people were trying to fulfill.

But recently he found himself being deliberately ignorant to those needs in himself – it was easier to follow a narrative if you didn’t overcomplicate it with your own wants.

Was it important to the Wildmother to be honest at all times?

“I mean it,” Caduceus said, willing it so. “What I want to do is make sure everyone feels good about what we’re doing before we make other plans, and go from there. That sounds like a fine conclusion to me.”

Beau chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment before reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Caddy, it seems like you’re awfully good at leveling that smart as fuck brain of yours against other people, but you’re kind of shit at doing the same for yourself.”

His shoulder stung slightly as she broke off to the front of the group.

-

The first few days back from Vo were fraught with ups and downs, but the mood was merry among the Nein once they arrived in Nicodranas, and eventually Rexxentrum. Caduceus did his best to put the last few weeks behind him. In truth, he was a straightforward person, absent of artifice or deceit. Caduceus embraced honest work, honest dialogue, earnestness… and all of these traits were disregarded by what they encountered since he last saw his family. Vokodo’s manipulations were an aberration against nature, and the tendrils of that invasion of the mind still clung to him, just like his recent visions.

If anything, he was happy to have the moment to praise Fjord for being exactly what he knew he was capable of. It meant something, to let Fjord know that he was becoming the kind of person he wanted to.

Receiving his warm regard in return was just a bonus.

-

Being around Yasha was easy, different from the rest of the Nein. Caduceus suspected that the two of them were similar in many ways, accustomed to being alone for long stretches of time and finding peace in that existence in their own separate ways. While Yasha wasn’t the first person to speak in most situations, her quiet contemplation of their surroundings allowed her to make astute observations every now and then, if she chose to share them. As a friend, it was pleasing to see her slowly start to trust herself again, allowing herself small motes of happiness. It was like finally seeing a crocus grow in the springtime, allowed to break out of the snow with enough sunlight and nourishment.

Getting a chance to check in with her outside of the tavern in Rexxentrum felt right too. She was skittish if pushed to open up too fast, understandably, and then seemed like the right time to see how comfortable she was with talking about her progress, their progress, their future.

His home.

He meant it, saying that he missed his home, but might miss what he was doing with the Nein more. When he brought up his plans with everyone on Rumblecusp, the intention was different – complete the tasks in front of them first. This quiet admission to Yasha, who was capable of such destruction that belied her true gentle nature, was a head tilt that put his truth into proper perspective.

He missed home, and in truth, desired things as they were now more than anything.

Yasha seemed to catch the undercurrent of that sentiment, smiling serenely. “So you might be stuck with us a little bit longer.”

He hoped. “That‘s a fine future. I will eventually be home, though. And it will be wonderful.”

“I think so too.” Caduceus followed Yasha’s gaze, looking back through the window he opened with Thaumaturgy, shutters revealing the tables and dance hall inside. The dancers swirled, the muted colors favored in Rexxentrum brought to life through movement. He caught sight of Beau and Caleb, presumably heckling one another to some degree, followed by Fjord and Jester, a complimentary pair, laughing and dancing.

As the half-orc and tiefling danced, the porcelain unicorn that Caduceus noticed Fjord buying earlier was offered, and even from this distance, Caduceus saw the joy on Jester’s face.

Despite how wild the world could be, some things made sense. They had a clear trajectory, a distinct arc, a predetermined landing place.

Fjord and Jester started their journey together. They were both from the coast, and had similar sensibilities and ways of life. She brought him out of his facade of a shell, making him laugh, and he was there for her in times of dire need, time and again.

Fjord had been her miracle.

Watching this exchange from afar, seeing the gift offered and accepted with sweetness and smiles on both sides, it was like seeing a rock arc in the air and fall exactly where predicted. Falling, falling, like his stomach down the deep chasm that had replaced his body. 

“But I don’t think we’re anywhere close to that yet.”

Startled out of his reverie, Caduceus turned back to Yasha. Her expression was muted, as was usual with her, but was some amalgamation of a smile and sadness.

“Yeah, I agree. Lots to do before we’re all on our way, right?”

“Sort of. I mean…” Yasha let out a small huff, as if frustrated. Caduceus understood her mind a little by now, and she occasionally seemed tripped up by the need to articulate her thoughts into words. She took a moment to think, brows furrowed, imposing form hunched over her drink. “You’re really smart, Caduceus, so… don’t decide anything is said and done until it is. Lots of time before things get figured out, right?”

Before he could untangle her meaning, the rest of the Nein burst outside, and the opportunity to ask slipped away.

-

Days later, it was after helping prepare the imposition of a dinner at Veth and Yeza’s apartment that Caduceus slipped out into the muggy Nicodranas night, and felt a breeze of serenity blow through him for the first time in a while. He and Jester discussed a plan to help in case they needed to get out of trouble quick in the future, and he needed to go pay a tithe in order to do it.

After the cacophony that was the Brenatto apartment, the temperate evening was a welcome breath of fresh air. The temperature was pleasant, better than the tropical suffocation of Rumblecusp, and more comfortable than the chill of Rexxentrum or The Savalirwood. While there was the transition of societal tier as he traveled from The Opal Archways district to the docks, there was still the same atmosphere of joviality wherever he went, of doors open to let night air flow into hot apartments, of music drifting out of restaurants as folks dined over guttering candles and laughing conversations.

At first, it was a shock to his system to get accustomed to the sheer number of people in cities. A funeral with ten in attendance was a big to-do in The Blooming Grove, and here in Nicodranas, people were flush in the streets, stacked up on top of one another in sprawling, endless buildings. Once he got more used to being in a forest of people instead of trees, cities stopped being quite so terrifying.

And at least here, in Nicodranas, nature wasn’t far off.

The tumultuous last few weeks – months – slipped away, like being wiped clean of soot, as Caduceus approached The Mother’s Lighthouse. Hopefully his friend, the elderly keeper of the lighthouse, wouldn’t be disturbed by his visit.

Communing always put him at ease, if only because it was either confirmation or redirection to the right path to be on. This – anchoring this symbol to the Wildmother to himself as a safety measure – felt just as reassuring, if not moreso. Scattering dirt and loam from his home and helping it grow here, far far away from his sanctuary, felt… oddly right. An extension of him.

A reminder that things could bloom far from home.

-

It was on his way back to The Opal Archways apartment that he heard Jester’s sing-song cadence ring in his head, causing him to stop in his tracks as he listened. “Caduceus! Need favor! I’m _dying_ for my favorite pastries from my favorite bakery and it closes soon. Can you go pick some treats up for-”

He waited.

“-everybody? It’s a few streets down from the lighthouse, you can’t miss it! It’s called The Regnant Pâtisserie and they have the _most delicious_ things-”

People watching in Nicodranas was always interesting, he mused absently as he waited – all sorts of folks made their way through here, that was the beauty of a port town.

“-anyway, can you go and get a bunch of tasty things? Some bear claws, and whatever they recommend! You’re the best, thank youuu… aaaand _out_.”

The improvised sign off was indicative enough that Jester was done with her messages, so Caduceus responded. “Not a problem, Jester. I’ll grab a couple of things and head on back.” He wasn’t accustomed to being on the receiving end of these things, so he paused for a moment. “Uh, message… over.” There, that should be appropriate.

It didn’t take long to find the bakery Jester meant, but Caduceus was surprised to see Fjord approaching from the opposite direction. Idly, he observed that Fjord’s face looked burnished and luminous under the floating spill of magic baubles in the air that made up the street lamps in The Opal Archways.

Their eyes met, and Caduceus buttoned that thought up.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Fjord drawled, tone deadpan as he stopped short in front of the taller man. “Veth sent me to go pick up some dessert.”

“Jester for me.” Caduceus shrugged with one shoulder. “Must have been some kind of miscommunication.” Fjord didn’t seem like he was much of a fan of sweets, and definitely hated shopping, so it seemed a little unfair for Veth to ask him to be here. “Since I’m already here, I don’t mind doing the shopping if you wanted to head on back.”

“Ah- no.” Usually Fjord jumped at the chance to avoid shopping, but strangely he didn’t, rubbing one of his arms. “I mean, I’m already here, so it wouldn’t make sense. Plus I bet those pastries can get pretty heavy, you might need my help carrying them.” Fjord tilted his head towards the door of the bakery. “Shall we?”

The joke made Caduceus laugh, concern that Fjord might be inconvenienced by this dissolving. “Sure, let’s.”

As they entered the brightly-lit bakery, the scents of bread and sugar filled Caduceus’ nose. It was an inherently homey smell, and he breathed deep. The counters were short, lined with glass cases that were half full at best with all kinds of baked sweets and desserts.

“It’s almost closing time, you know!” Behind the counter was a wizened-looking gnome, her apron covered in flour and streaks of icing. She was staring at the two of them askance. “Can’t guarantee we’ll have what you’re looking for, and certainly don’t have anything fresh!”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Caduceus reassured, unruffled by her demeanor. “Just whatever you have is fine. We’re just looking to get an assortment for our friends.”

“We’re sent by The Lavish Chateau.” As Fjord cut in, leaning into a smooth-talking approach, the gnome’s expression shifted into surprise, then mollified.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? New help, eh? You’ve always been good clients, always happy to keep supplying that breakfast buffet of yours. Here, hold on a tick.” The gnome spun on her heel, headed to the back without another word.

Caduceus turned slightly to raise an eyebrow at Fjord. “ _Are_ we sent by The Lavish Chateau?”

The half-orc shrugged a little, a tone of sheepishness creeping in. “It’s what Veth said to say.”

After a moment, the gnome marched back in, carrying a tray of a variety of baked treats. “Now, I know they’re picky with what they get over there, but The Ruby has always been good to me.” She proceeded to carry the tray over to one of the larger-sized cafe tables set up towards the side of the interior, lifting it over her head and sliding it onto the surface. “You two try some of these out and let me know what you think you should bring back – I have some batches cooling off in the back for tomorrow, and I’d be happy to give you a dozen or two of whatever variety ya pick.”

“That’s _far_ too generous,” Fjord started, seemingly a little flabbergasted by the sudden change in attitude. They knew how much weight Marion’s name held, but they had never utilized it to their own benefit like this before. As far as Caduceus was concerned, she was just Jester’s extremely sweet, extremely flirtatious mother.

“Bah, nonsense.” The gnome waved her hand in rejection of the notion. “S’just good business. Now I won’t bother you two, so choose away and give me a holler when you’re ready to check out.”

“We will, thank you.” Caduceus smiled at her before Fjord could protest further and potentially insult her hospitality. “I’m Caduceus, and this is Fjord. What’s your name?”

The gnome sniffed. “Name’s Runa. Pleasure. Like I said, shout when you’re ready to check out!” With that, she made off for the back room, surely churning out dough to prove overnight.

Left alone in the suddenly empty café, the two men stared at one another in the wake of that whirlwind. After a too-long moment, Fjord’s eyes averted to the table. “Well… I suppose it would be rude to not take her up on her offer.”

The two sat down, and the spread was a shockingly bright array of different kinds of desserts. Caduceus was used to pretty rustic fare back home, and he was always wonderfully surprised by the variety of foods available on this continent. The pastries seemed lacquered with egg wash and sugar, some bright with different fruits he didn’t recognize, some looking adjacently familiar with foods he had consumed before.

“Lost?”

Caduceus looked back up to Fjord, who was staring at him instead of the pastries in front of him. “Maybe a little,” he laughed. “I’m always amazed at the abundance of food wherever we go. Makes me not take any opportunity to try these things for granted.” He picked up a small, flaky-looking square with some sort of jam and butter-colored filling oozing out. It was small enough to eat in one larger bite, and his eyes widened at the burst of tart and creamy flavor.

“So good,” he tried to say, incredibly muffled by his mouthful of food.

Fjord chuckled, picking up another identical pastry. “Guava and cheese – it’s one of my favorites.” Matching Caduceus, he ate the entire thing in one bite, face crinkled like he was holding back laughter.

The stress and hardship of the last few weeks seemed remote in this moment, with sugar on his fingers, the warm breeze and soft sounds of Nicodranas in the evening filtering through the ajar window. The atmosphere was warm and syrupy as the jam on his tongue, as tranquil as the company in front of him. This wasn’t quite the same as the peace he experienced earlier in the presence of the Wildmother’s sanctuary, but still good. It felt less holy, and more… what was the right word for it? Familiar. Homey. Easy.

Chewing thoughtfully, Caduceus said nothing.

They tried various treats, Fjord walking Caduceus through what the Menagerie Coast staples were. Some of them they had to split, but in the end they were able to sample a little of almost everything. After calling back Runa, they pulled together a selection – including the requested cinnamon bear claws - that would hopefully be above Jester’s discerning pastry palate’s criticism.

Runa packed them up into a bright blue box, then tied it off with ribbon. Caduceus paid, but as he went to pick up the box, Fjord swept it out from underneath his reach. “Like I said, I’m here to be manpower. Let me.” Caduceus didn’t argue, and instead held the door open for Fjord as they exited and bid Runa a good evening (with promise to discuss expanded brunch options with the Chateau).

They were barely outside of the threshold of the bakery when Fjord stopped in his tracks. Caduceus was about to ask what was the matter, but Fjord was holding up one finger, eyes rolling a little as he balanced the box with his other hand. After a long few moments, he scoffed. “Looks like we’re errand boys. Jester wants us to stop at an apothecary for her before heading back to The Lavish Chateau.”

Jester was messaging Fjord?

“Not a problem, but you should respond to her before the message fizzles out.”

“I did.” Fjord looked bemused for a second before smiling. “You do know that you don’t have to respond to the message out loud, right? Despite Jester’s theatrics?”

“Oh!” Caduceus thought about it, then smiled back. “Yeah, I guess that makes a lot of sense. Probably make for a pretty inconvenient spell otherwise. Dunno why I never thought of that before.”

When Fjord smiled this wide, the corners of his eyes creased with smile lines. It was nice to see such a carefree expression on his face, what with how the world weighed on him so often. Caduceus noted in passing that being carefree looked good on him. “Because your mind is better suited to thinking about things much more complicated than that.” Before he could react to it much at all, Fjord reached over to squeeze Caduceus’ shoulder before starting down the promenade. “Come on, Jester told me where to go. We’re apparently on the hunt for some cosmetics that she _absolutely needs_ before we leave Nicodranas.

Since there was nothing to observe from that interaction, Caduceus just rubbed his shoulder in kind before moving to keep pace with the paladin.

Their path led them down some side streets, closer to the harbor, and the vendors somehow became even more vibrant with their wares. There were carts lined with jewelry and ornaments, artists painting with finished pieces lined up against the cobblestones, musicians playing. Despite the later hour, the streets were still thrumming with activity and energy.

“Oh, this is wonderful.” Caduceus stopped in front of a cart of small sculptures, some person-shaped, some more abstract. “Having a city like this all the time must be so nice.”

Fjord stopped next to him, observing the statues in kind. “It isn’t always quite like this, but festivities must be ramping up early this year. The Artisan’s Faire is in… two or so weeks?”

“Ah.” Many Exandrian holidays were outside of Caduceus’ circle of reference, but the name and the vendors in the streets made it rather self-explanatory. He looked down the way, taking note of the atmosphere and the artists happily sharing their wares. “I think… maybe folks are feeling a little relief.” He turned to Fjord, feeling a moment of clarity. “Might not be in the middle of the war, but Nicodranas must have felt the effects in some ways. The peace treaty must be making everyone feel a little less scared.”

Fjord’s expression grew serious, understanding dawning on him. “You think so?”

“Mm.” He continued down the street, Fjord falling into step with him. “Reminds me what we’re working for. It’s one thing to do what we do because it’s the ‘right’ thing, but this is really what it’s all about.” Caduceus gestured to the thrum of people around them. “Regular people trying to live a regular life. What we do gives them a decent shot at it all.”

Fjord didn’t respond, but his expression looked contemplative as they approached their next destination.

The Tidal Vanity had a simple exterior, but once they entered it was bursting from every counter and shelf with jars, bottles, jewelry, scarves, anything and everything. It was like a pretty treasure chest had exploded inside of this small shop.

Caduceus didn’t even know where to begin. “Huh. That’s a lot.” The two of them stood at the entrance, stunned by the sheer volume of things inside, and a half-elf man glared at them from across the store, firmly seated from behind the counter. Caduceus raised a hand in greeting, and the man sniffed, attention turning back to the book open in front of him. “So, uh… what was it Jester needed?”

“It was… perfume. I think.” Fjord frowned, thinking hard. “No, definitely perfume. Said it came in a gold bottle with a blue crystal top. I think she said it was called.. Beget? Begin?”

“Beguile,” the shopkeep called, not looking up from his book. He waved his hand towards the lefthand back corner of the shop. “Over there, somewhere.”

They shared an amused look before heading in that direction, starting to scour the disorganized shelves and counters for Jester’s purchase. Despite the cold welcome from the shopkeep, that same reassuring atmosphere settled over Caduceus like a warm mantle. Solitude shared with Fjord always felt _easy_.

It was after a few moments that Fjord’s voice interrupted. “This reminds me of you.”

Caduceus turned to see Fjord pointing at a display of various odds and ends, indicating a necklace. He leaned forward to inspect it. At the end of a long leather cord was a spiral of driftwood, delicately fashioned to hold a teal piece of sea glass inside. It stood out from the rest of the baubles in the shop because of its simplicity and clean prettiness.

He remained in his inspecting position, hands behind his back, before his flush-colored eyes flicked up to Fjord. The comparison made him feel oddly pleased. His mouth arched into a smile. “I’m like a necklace?”

Fjord’s gaze darted away. “Well- no, but it _reminds_ me of you.” The corners of his mouth quirked up. “You know, I don’t know if you’re being deliberately obtuse or genuine when you do things like that.”

“Maybe it’s fun to keep you guessing.”

For a flustering moment, Fjord looked back at Caduceus with surprise as the firbolg straightened, clearing his throat, stomach twisting. “Uh… just gonna go look for what Jester wanted.” With all of the speed of an Expeditious Retreat, Caduceus turned on his heel, willing the warmth on his face to go away as he hastened himself to the opposite corner, finding the perfume Jester wanted.

Instead of picking it up right away, he stood there, collecting himself as he stared unseeing at the droves of bottles. He did occasionally speak without thinking, but usually when he was ignorant to a situation and learning about his surroundings, not when it came to the comfortable repartee that he and Fjord shared. Breaking that routine with whatever was urging him to talk like this… this pattern of speaking with allusion, implying some sort of unknown second meaning… it was _confusing_. What made him want to speak in this way?

“Found it,” he finally admitted, taking the bottle and heading towards the clerk, resolutely not looking at Fjord.

-

The walk back to The Chateau passed without much conversation between the two of them. Caduceus was still too unsettled by his own behavior, and Fjord seemed very focused on carrying the large box of pastries.

Upon arrival, they were swept up into greetings from the Nein in the main room of the Chateau, naturally split up into different conversations. Caduceus observed that Jester was missing, presumably speaking with her mother, when Veth approached. “Mister Clay, thanks for picking the pastries up. I’m going to run a few over to Yeza and Luc tonight.”

“Oh, it was no problem at all.” His mouth twisted as he thought. “Hey, uh… but didn’t you send Fjord?”

Veth crossed her arms, frowning. “Did I?” After a moment, her expression shifted, and she smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach her entire face. “Uh, of course I did. Jester told me that she sent you, and I thought you couldn’t handle it, is all! What with your appetite for dead people fertilizer and all that.”

“Uh huh.” Caduceus assessed her, watching her bluster. He _knew_ she wasn’t telling the truth, because if that was the case, Fjord wouldn’t have already been there when he arrived. He just didn’t know what truth she wasn’t telling.

He allowed the moment to linger, and Veth squirmed. “It’s not like it was my idea, okay?! Figure it out!” She turned away with a scoff, leaving him to parse out her meaning.

-

The next day passed in a strange blur – Caduceus wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get used to being able to travel across the continent in a matter of seconds, after decades of being in the same place.

The lighthearted atmosphere of the day before faded away in the face of their dinner with Trent Ikithon, and Caduceus’ observation of the crowd in Nicodranas resurfaced. Here was a stark, unsettling reminder that there were too many things threatening the fragile balance they were attempting to achieve for Wildemount.

He was content to let Caleb lead the conversation, to allow him agency over how he confronted the long shadows of his past, but he couldn’t quite let it pass without comment. He couldn’t say it didn’t fill him with a little bit of satisfaction to do so, to set it straight for this idiot – like he said to Caleb before, he would not hesitate to put this man in the ground if he willed it so. Death came to all, but sometimes people like them could help nudge it towards those who deserved it sooner rather than later.

-

After the hostility of the evening, the mansion that Caleb manifested from nothing was the break in tension they all needed, Caleb most of all. After the tour and dinner, most of the Nein retreated to their rooms. Caduceus opted to stay in the dining hall for a bit, watching the cats wander to and fro, wondering if they used cat body language to speak to one another, or were telepathic like Frumpkin.

Before too long, Jester flounced in, huffing, and he smiled her way. “Done being a cat for now?”

“I _guess_.” She sat down, leaning her chin in one hand as she slumped. “I ended up falling and totally smooshing some of Caleb’s cats – don’t tell him, okay?” Her glance slid to the amber tabby closest to them, and when it gave no indication that it had heard of her crimes, she leaned in towards it. “Could I have some pastries, pretty please?” With a chirrup of assent, the cat made off for the bakery portion of the kitchen, returning in short order with a platter of croissants and scones.

The two clerics started to pick at the offering, silence comfortable before Caduceus broke it.

“So why did you make up those errands for me and Fjord to do?” There was no aggression or malice in his tone, but Jester still winced at his genial question.

“Was it that obvious?”

“Well, you had me at first with the bakery, but it got a little hinky with errand two. Plus you messaged Fjord instead of me after the first round, and Veth is a terrible liar.”

Jester sighed, rolling her eyes. “Sorry, Caduceus. I was just trying to help things along, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

Jester fiddled with her jewelry, the chains on her horns swinging as she fussed with them. “I mean.. everybody’s talking about what they’re going to do next. And it probably totally helps people decide what they want to do if they know what everyone else is doing! Like maybe Veth would want to move back to Felderwin or somewhere totally far away, but she knows that Yeza likes the ocean and that I want to go back home someday too! So she knows that her family would be happy and that she won’t get lonely without friends.” The rapid-fire pace of her words petered off as her lips jutted forward in exaggerated thought, a pause hanging in the air between them.

“That’s great,” Caduceus prompted, in search of the point.

Huffing, Jester released her circuitous hold on her jewelry and shrugged. “I’m just saying that if _I_ had something I maybe sort of kind of wanted to say to somebody, I would say it before it’s too late! And then if stuff doesn’t work out, I would at least know that it was because they genuinely felt a certain way, instead of me not knowing. It would be really stupid to lose out on something because I didn’t tell someone how I was feeling.”

Despite the meandering path that Jester’s train of thought usually took, Caduceus typically was capable of seeing its pattern. This time it eluded him, and he smiled pleasantly, amiably. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m not totally sure what you mean. Is there something you want to tell me? Cause I’d be happy to listen if there was.”

A flare of frustration made Jester throw her hands up in the air, eyes rolling. “Not _me_ , Caduceus. _You_. I’m talking about how you should talk to _Fjord_.”

It wasn’t often that Caduceus’ intuition failed him, but at Jester’s outburst he found himself taken aback. Out of the group, Fjord was probably the person he spoke to the most, and the demand didn’t track with him. Brow furrowing, he leaned closer, elbows on the table as he kept his voice tethered to its usual anchor of affability. “Well, sure, I wouldn’t mind talking to Fjord… except I don’t think I have anything I need to say to him. Not sure I get what you mean.” His hands shaped the facsimile of a shrug, at a loss for her meaning. “Unless you think there’s something I forgot to tell him.”

“Ca- _du_ -ceus.” He felt the full focus of Jester’s ire turn on him as she pointed a finger at him with one hand, the other slapping onto the table. The few cats ambling through the dining hall seemed nonplussed by her outburst, continuing their ant-like journeys in and out of the tunnels. “You’re _lying_ to me and I _know_ you’re lying because you wouldn’t do all the things you do for Fjord if you weren’t totally in love with him!”

The declaration rung out in the air between them, leaving a chasm of silence in its wake, stretching on and on and on.

And for no reason at all, Caduceus’ hands and feet felt hot, discomfort a racing sensation over his skin.

Her expression went soft, her pique fading. “I’ve spent lots and lots of time trying to figure out what ‘real life’ love is, and I think you feel that for Fjord, but I’m worried that you wouldn’t tell him in a million years. You know you’re allowed to want things and not just… just… _be in service_ to people. It’s wonderful that you want to try to make people happy, it really is, but… you aren’t a tool, you know? Everybody deserves to be happy, and it seems like being around him makes you happy.”

Jester’s logic was a train of thought that Caduceus’ mind was firmly refusing to follow. The words registered, but they didn’t make _sense_ to him. “All of you make me happy,” he replied blithely, thoughts racing.

“Not like he does.”

“We’re friends,” he insisted.

“Uh huh… friends you make custom, one-of-a-kind jewelry for?”

“That’s-”

“Or work super duper hard to reforge an ancient, legendary sword for? And make sure that these things are a _surprise_? And then _totally_ romantically save from Uk’otoa by helping him start who he is as a _person_ over, and getting that stupid ball out of him?” Jester looked at him with _sympathy_ , of all things. “Caduceus, you’ve been courting him all this time and you didn’t even _know_ it. You know, my Mama calls it love language when you do certain things to express how you’re feeling when you like someone, and you like certain things back, and you _definitely_ do things for Fjord that you don’t do for anyone else. Because you _like_ him.”

Caduceus was floundering.

She was right.

Of _course_ she was right, but the knowledge didn’t come to him as a thunderclap of realization. This moment wasn’t an abrupt shock to his system; in truth, this was known to him. The culmination of this truth was slower than the tide, slower than the phases of the moons. It was like the slow creep of vines that you took for granted, taking root and spreading until you return home one day to find that your house is a garden. 

He liked Fjord.

He was in love with him.

And it was a terrible, terrible idea.

Jester’s eyebrows rose, facial expression expectant.

“I can’t,” Caduceus started, surprised to hear the low gravelly tone in his voice. “I don’t - it’s fine. I’m fine with things like this.”

With all the calm decorum of a Xhorassian noble, Jester folded her hands on the table. “That’s fucking stupid.” She jutted her chin forward at his bewildered face, Jester expressing the equivalent of ‘I said what I said’ with a flail of her body language. “It is! I think he for real likes you back, and you have nothing to lose by being honest.”

He wasn’t by any means a wordsmith, but he rarely found words abandoning him the way they were now. “Jester, I don’t think that’s true. What about… I mean, the two of you… surely, you…”

“Me? Me and _Fjord_?” She giggled, waving her hand. “I used to have a crush on him - more like the idea of him that I made up - but that was like, a _really_ long time ago. Plus he and I are totally different people now and we’re just really good friends.” She paused, looking thoughtful, hand lifting to flutter through her hair. “And like, I don’t know. I _love_ romance, but I’m… kind of happy doing stuff to make myself happy.” She grinned. “ _Plus_ I’ve got _kind of a feeling_ that it wouldn’t work out anyway because he likes _someone else_ ~”

Caduceus felt _tired_ , not quite feeling frustration, but a feeling shaded like it, even as something in his chest swooped at her confession.. “Jester… if he felt that way, I’m sure I would know. I’m around him enough.”

“ _Sure_ you are.” Jester started to pick apart the croissant on the plate in front of her, popping a few flaky layers into her mouth. “You’re around him enough that you should actually _look_ at him and see how he acts, you know? Every time you say something crazy or funny or have a good idea, or any time you bust out a butt-kicking spell, you know what he does?” Caduceus remained silent, unsure. “He _smiles_ at you, like you’re amazing and the most wonderful thing in the world. Which you _are_ , but you should know that Fjord thinks that too.” Straightening, she smiled in that beatific way of hers. “So ask him! Be like _Fjord_ , do you think I’m _wonderful_ , and will you hold me in your super muscular arms? And he’ll go all dashing sea captain on you and sweep you off of your feet!” Which was ridiculous to imagine, honestly - he was too tall, and Fjord’s captain’s hat was too big, even if he was muscular enough to pull it off, and his mind ran away with calculating how possible that configuration would be. 

He was trying to reconcile this new information, even as Jester rattled on all the ways that he could confess his feelings in the most maudlin-like way. Of course he noticed Fjord smiling at him, from time to time, but wasn’t that common? Even if the way it spread radiating warmth through his chest was one-sided, it was perfectly usual to smile at a platonic companion.

Before this conversation, Caduceus felt resolute about everything, sure of where they were headed. They would fight together until their business was sorted, and just as they began, Fjord would go off with Jester, and Caduceus would return home to his cemetery. The vibrant members of the Nein would adventure on, and he would go back to where he came from, solitary, as if Caduceus had never wandered through Wildemount. That was their confirmed, predetermined trajectory.

But didn’t nature have chaos? Some unpredictability?

Feeling distressed, a vein of panic trembling in his chest, Caduceus stood, chair squeaking against the floor at the abrupt movement. “I, uh. Should go. To bed.” He turned and took a step away before hesitating, looking back over his shoulder to Jester. “But I’ll… think about what you said.”

“You should,” she cheered at him. “Because if you told Fjord he would totally smooch you!”

He returned to their dormitory in a flustered fog, almost forgetting the words to allow him passage through the gateways in the floor.

-

Sleep eluded Caduceus as he laid in bed that night, staring at invisible patterns on the ceiling. Jester’s words battered against one another in his mind, refusing to let him have peace. He should be _enjoying_ this, reveling in being able to stretch out in bed without too-short blankets or his limbs hanging over the edge of the bed, but his thoughts were all over the place.

So... maybe he was in love with Fjord. Maybe he had been for… who knew for how long. It could have been the moment when he joined him in worshiping the Wildmother, or when he trusted him to bring him back to health at the forge… or, in reality, the slew of little moments of comfort and camaraderie that lined up together to make something whole. The feeling was like soft embers in a hearth, a glowing warmth of home, burning inside of him. He had known all along that he felt differently for Fjord than he did for anyone else, even if he didn’t have enough wordly sense to call it by its name. No one else made his chest feel tight with those blooming smiles that Fjord deigned to share with him. He didn’t find anyone else looking at him with wonder as he spoke or did things that he found perfectly mundane. There were plenty of magnificent new things in this world, but nothing and no one else made him feel real, true wonder.

And the real truth is that he never had enough self-awareness to truly consider whatever it is he wanted.

His entire reason for being up until this point was shaped by something else, be it his family’s legacy, the sprawling plans of the Wildmother, and then the individual twists of fate each of his compatriots faced. In truth, he knew nothing _but_ how to be in service to others, even down to his combat abilities, focused on keeping others protected and hobbling enemies to better line them up for combatants.

And this wasn’t necessarily a problem. He derived fulfillment from these things, felt genuine happiness being the font of advice, the reliable sounding board for the Nein. He liked to give.

But maybe Jester’s assessment was right.

Was that what he wanted in return?

As Jester put it, what was his language of love?

Letting himself be weak, eyes sliding shut, he imagined it for a moment, if he was allowed to just… manifest anything he wanted. What would it be like to give gifts to Fjord and have his meaning known? To show affection? To drift asleep with Fjord curled in front of him, hand on his waist, to wake up with Fjord looking at him with wonder and warm regard…

His eyes snapped open. Perhaps imagining these things was a bad idea. Jester made her feelings on the matter known, but that didn’t explain what Fjord’s were. For all he knew, Fjord had feelings for Jester, or someone else, or no one at all. Maybe he didn’t _want_ to have feelings for anyone. Or maybe someone like Caduceus was good to have as a friend, a healer, but not as anything else. He was utterly inexperienced in these things, and he didn’t know the first thing about how to navigate telling someone that you were in love with them. He didn’t know anything at all about romance.

It had to be different for people like Jester, someone who was charming and had the endearing talent of adopting strangers as friends and giving them no choice but to love her, or someone like Beau, who kicked and scrapped until the world yielded to her will. Caduceus knew how to understand people, but it seemed that Beau was right – that intuition fell short when he reflected it back on himself.

No. It was better to just keep this close to the chest. He had borne it so far, and it wouldn’t be a burden to just continue to keep it tucked away for the sake of their friendship. Status quo. He was used to this.

Normally he would turn to the Wildmother for guidance in the midst of such turmoil, but he told himself these matters were too trivial to bother his Goddess with. As he curled up in bed, he ignored the voice in his head saying it was because he was afraid of what answer he might get.

-

Whether by design or by accident, he started to steer clear of Fjord. It certainly didn’t help that their preparations for Eiselcross became infinitely more fraught after Jester scryed on their former teammate at his former burial site – while he was only with them for a short while, he obviously impacted them greatly, and seeing him on a mission at their destination rattled the rest of the Nein. And what a shame, too. He could only hope to have a death where his loved ones cherished his memory and toasted to his name, so it seemed like an awful waste for this man to give that all up.

Caleb, who was initially so animated at the idea of reviving their friend, completely secluded himself to one of the upper rooms in their tower. Jester tried to keep the mood up as much as she could, but Yasha seemed more withdrawn, Beau threw herself into her notes, and Veth was spending as much time with her family as she could.

This was exactly why Caduceus didn’t really recommend this kind of thing in the business. Mourning was a funny thing, and once the heart allowed you to move on from someone’s passing, suddenly having them alive again was like a double photograph where you could never really lose the image of the ghost in the background. Messy stuff.

Their preparations for this trip were once upbeat, but as the days ticked down to the planned departure date for the Palebank Village, the atmosphere between them all didn’t improve. He didn’t even have the distraction of cooking available, and thus there was no reason for all of the Nein to eat at the same time either.

(He had tried, and a tiger made its displeasure very well known before herding him out of the kitchen.)

Midway through their countdown to departure he made his way down to the Salon. He wasn’t much of a reader, but he was curious to see what made up the library of Caleb’s memory. That, and he had not explored this floor yet, and every room here was worth a good sussing out.

He was observing the map of Wildemount, tracing the lines of mountains and valleys with his fingertips when he heard the brass iris above open up, Caleb floating down into the library. Smiling, Caduceus made his way down to the first floor, happy to see one of the Nein not in passing. “Afternoon, Mister Caleb. Here for some re-reading?”

Caleb seemed a tad surprised to see him here, but returned the smile in that muted way of his. “Ah, ja, something like that.” He made his way over to a shelf, apparently knowing the exact tome he was looking for. “Just want to review what we’ve already covered for this mission. It will make me feel better prepared, and all that.”

Which wasn’t necessarily true, considering Caleb had that nifty perfect memory and wouldn’t need to access his tomes to recall information. That was fine – long as it made him feel better.

Belaying that knowledge wasn’t necessary, so Caduceus nodded instead. “Makes sense. We’re gonna need to prepare ourselves for some fighting and some weirdness, I’m sure.”

“Ah, speaking of weird…” Caleb set the book he was thumbing through down on one of the side tables, on top of a hazardous stack. “I didn’t get the chance to properly thank you the other day, for what you said at dinner.” Caleb’s fingers lingered on the book cover, lips twisting. “Last few days have been a bit of a whirlwind, but it was very impressive for you to stand up to someone of his stature, Mister Clay. Not many people would feel brave enough to do such a thing, present company included.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You certainly showed up, didn’t you?”

Caleb smiled that imitation of a smile he was talented at that looked like a grimace. “That was no great accomplishment, to be sure. All I did was converse as if… as if I hadn’t daydreamed about getting revenge for how he ruined my life. You were the one who really stood up to him – and I’m grateful for that.”

Their wizard was a study in self-deprecation. He recently showed great progress in learning how to be kind to himself, but just as much as anything else, picking that scab was a habit that had to be broken over time. “Nonsense. You say that, but just by being you and being here, you’re defying him every day.”

“I would like to think so. The idea might be easier to accept if this… if me being here wasn’t by his own design, as much as everything else.”

Caduceus could see that Caleb had difficulty believing him – unsurprising – so he forged on. “So he let you go. He doesn’t get to take credit for anything that happened after that, mind you. Abusers and manipulators will always try to take credit for the deeds of good people because they can’t manifest any good on their own. Even all this-” Caduceus spread his arms, indication the Salon and their surroundings. “You think someone under his thumb would have made something like this, something without utility, only for the sake of showing obvious adoration for his friends?” He smiled indulgently at the flush on Caleb’s face. “I think you can agree with me.”

“I…” Caleb cleared his throat, blustering away his embarrassment. Caleb’s trust and self-worth was a difficult, stubborn crop, but one sure to have a bountiful yield once it was tended to enough. “I can only hope to view things as thoughtfully as you some day. All the same… thank you, Caduceus. It means a lot.”

“Anytime. I’m just telling the truth.” A beat passed. “By the way… did your family grow wheat?”

Only the dead were stiffer than Caleb in that moment, frozen, brow furrowed deeply. “I don’t know what you…” Caleb’s eyes slid shut, emotion shuddering through him for a moment as he swallowed hard. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I had a feeling.” Caduceus reached across to him, and Caleb looked on as he brushed some chaff off of his shoulder. “I hope that whatever you’ve got up there at the top of the tower helps you work it out. Here if you want to talk about it.”

Caleb managed a strangled _danke_ as they both watched the chaff flutter to the floor.

-

After that encounter, Caduceus pretty much kept to his chambers, tending to and talking with the ferns and fungi that were his new roommates. It was one night when he was spending time with his new beetle friends, encouraging them to chat with the ones in his staff, that he heard a soft knock. The sound was muffled from the main sitting room, but Caduceus left his staff with a murmur of “play nice,” before he stood, heading to the door.

He wasn’t sure who he expected to be on the other side, since all of the Nein sought out his advice at one point or another – so he wasn’t surprised to see Fjord standing there, looking unsure, dressed down in simple trousers and a plain dark tunic.

“It’s late,” Fjord began, and Caduceus smiled his easygoing, comforting smile.

“Hardly. Come on in.”

After shutting the door behind the half-orc, Caduceus made for the tea cart, pulling together what he thought was the right combination of flavors. Something mellow, earthy, and with some chamomile and mint thrown in to give an herby note. “What’s on your mind?”

“Sorry to bother.” When Caduceus turned around with the two steeping tea cups, Fjord was pacing the floor, the light from the crackling fireplace dancing across his limbs as Fjord emanated nervous energy. “It’s… it’s stupid. And I shouldn’t even bother you right now, but-”

Caduceus deposited the two cups onto a side table and sat down in one of the wide armchairs, Caleb’s recreations evoking the simple wood designs of his home in the Savalirwood with all of the sensed comforts of the plushness of The Lavish Chateau. The entire salon was a mimicry of his home, with clean sweeping lines in honeyed wood that seemed handcrafted with stone accents, worn-in like it already had a few hundred years to settle, and the not-quite-there sense of familiarity was enough to made Caduceus feel even-keeled as he smiled at Fjord. “You know I never mind if you come to me with things. I’m always happy to help ease your burden. What’s troubling you?”

With a bursting exhalation, Fjord ran a hand raggedly through his hair. “I… haven’t been able to meditate.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. While that wasn’t entirely unexpected, given the newness of the practice to Fjord, the slight surprise came from Fjord’s need to seek counsel on it. “Doesn’t seem unusual, considering everything going on. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Fjord’s scoff had a decidedly self-deprecating cast to it. “Right, _everything_ going on. I’ve been trying to seek out the Wildmother for days, and here I am with the most incredible meditation room and I can’t clear my mind enough to reach her. I just can’t get my mind off of… of what Jester saw.”

“Ah,” Caduceus said, understanding better now. “That.”

“Yes, _that_. Wouldn’t you know, it would be right of me to worry about the myriad other things that are more pressing – to worry about the war that we all know isn’t truly over, or the political plans we keep finding ourselves tangled in, but all I can think about is how… how _wrong_ this all feels.” Fjord inhaled sharpy. “He died. He _died_ and he was buried and we _mourned_ him.”

The half-orc continued pacing, and Caduceus clasped his fingers. His mother taught him the trick of lacing the fingers together and holding them in your lap to hide the shaking if he ever felt nervous.

“The truth… is that this all frightens me. It’s a nice story, isn’t it, to lose a comrade in battle who inspires you to do good for the rest of your life, and let that memory be the driving force behind all the good you do.” And now Caduceus could identify the energy coming from Fjord – he was in true distress. “So what happens when that banner you waved turns out to be a lie? What does it say about everything we’re doing when that memory is fraudulent, and degraded? I should have been more careful back then, and I can’t seem to get past it now.”

Intuition kicked in for Caduceus, like putting on spectacles and having his vision cleared as his eyes tracked Fjord’s journey back and forth across the rug. “You feel guilty.”

Without returning the look, Fjord scrubbed at his face. “I mean… fine. Yes. If it wasn’t for me, if I hadn’t gotten so… so _comfortable_ , I wouldn’t have been taken.” He swallowed. “He would still be alive, and not whoever he is now. Jester seemed so certain that it isn’t Molly, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Caduceus leaned forward in his seat. “Fjord, I’m not going to tell you how to feel about this. You certainly _can_ feel guilty, but I feel like that’s a terrible waste for you. Sure, this man died. That was the result of the doings of evil men taking the three of you away, not because of any action you did or did not take. Would you fault Jester, or Yasha? Whether you feel that this was predetermined by destiny or as a result of fallible mortal actions, you are not the cause of his passing.”

For the first time since he arrived, Fjord was still, the anxious, wound-up energy abbreviated in the wake of Caduceus’ thoughts.

“His death inspired you all to try to be better people, and that is a legacy that isn’t cheapened by the actions of anyone else, not even by someone else using his body. Honestly, I think that kind of lasting memory is the most than any of us can hope to accomplish. I didn’t know him, but I believe that your Mollymauk did good things with his short lease on life, and continues to do them now, through you. That hasn’t gone away.”

Fjord exhaled a shaky gust of breath. “If that’s all true, then... why does this frighten me? More than anything else we’ve faced?”

“Because you’re a good man.” The truthful compliment came out effortlessly. “Because you’re loyal and noble, and you’re afraid of conflict against someone you all once loved.” The smile that melted over Caduceus’ face didn’t exactly reach his eyes, since the situation didn’t merit true mirth, but the intended reassurance shone through. “We’ll all face whatever happens together, and whatever this man’s intentions are, I know we’re gonna be just fine. And I want you to know that I’ll be here for you – for you all. I’m well-acquainted with death and all its trappings, and I’ve yet to meet this guy. Might make things a little easier to have someone totally on your side.”

The paladin weakly smiled back at Caduceus. In this light he looked worn with stress, the circles under his eyes flicking in and out of existence in the firelight. “That… does help.” His next deep breath seemed steadier. “Thank you, Caduceus. Genuinely.” He laughed without humor. “You somehow know exactly what to say to make me feel at ease. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you here with me.”

The compliment struck Caduceus like a match, like flint on steel scattering sparks through his chest. Just as quickly, the need to put it out, to diminish and deflect flooded him. “I’m certainly grateful to be here with you. This is the path I was meant for, and I’m glad that destiny and… divine intervention led me here.”

Strangely, Fjord frowned. “Caduceus… please, stop.” He took a step, then another towards Caduceus. The atmosphere twisted sideways, like a wheel off of its axle.

Sitting down like this, he was below eye level for Fjord. The dynamic of having to tilt his head up to speak with him was new, slightly flustering, and absolutely not the place that his head should be going right now. From this angle, Fjord’s eyes were bright with the licking light of the fire.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right? Act like everything has to do with destiny and nothing at all to do with you?” Frustration tinged Fjord’s words. “You once told me that you were a sign from the Wildmother, but I… I don’t want you to say things like that. You’re more than that… more than symbolism or guidance at the right time. You’re a _person_. You talk about yourself like you’re some tertiary protagonist in a heroic tale, but that doesn’t come close to saying anything real about you.”

At a loss for words, Caduceus simply blinked, awash in disbelief.

“I mean, I know fate and all that is important to you, but you talk all the time about choice and being a good person. That’s _you_ too. You choose to be good. You choose to be kind-hearted and genuine and dependable.” For what felt like the first time that evening, their gazes truly met. “You chose to be here with me.”

The crack-popping of the fire was loud as fireworks as Caduceus stared up at Fjord, pink and gold trained on one another.

There was a canyon, a void between them that he was frightened to jump over, for fear of falling and losing himself. Fjord’s expression was expectant, leaving it up to Caduceus to determine the next step.

Was he going to resign himself to life as a servant, or leap?

Caduceus’ voice rumbled as he managed to speak. “Well, that’s an easy choice. That’s something I’ll always choose.”

Fjord’s expression shifted into something that Caduceus couldn’t identify, seeing it for the first time on his face, and the air took on a charge, like he was liable to get a static shock.

As they stared at one another and the moment stretched on, Caduceus felt a lurch of awareness rocket through his body. All at once, his perception tunneled to Fjord’s focused expression, his eyes flickering over his face, the subtle lean of his body towards him. This was like that short moment on the ship, but without a convenient signal for Caduceus to use as an excuse to flee.

He didn’t want to run this time.

“Caduceus…” Fjord raised a hand and cupped his jaw, warm fingertips startling points of warmth on his cheek and neck, skirting underneath his fall of hair. Caduceus’ breath hitched as he felt blunted nails skim across his skin.

“Yes, Fjord?” The hushed response was all the volume Caduceus could manage with his remaining breath. He felt his body sway forward, unbidden, magnetized by whatever new spell Fjord was casting on him. Tentatively, he lifted his hands, resting them on Fjord’s chest. These emotions and feelings were brand new to him, arresting his senses and making his stomach twist in the most horrible and pleasant way when Fjord’s golden-eyed gaze flickered down to his mouth. He felt charmed, intoxicated, all of the positive outcomes of having his senses stolen from him. It was thrilling and terrifying.

The thumb on his cheek rubbed, fingertips on the side of his neck pressing, charged contacts that had him simultaneously feeling like he wanted to leap out of his skin with energy and to just relinquish himself to the touch. Fjord licked his lips, tongue darting out between his tusks, surely a gesture of uncertainty that had quite the opposite effect on Caduceus. “I… Is it okay… can I kiss you?”

Heat raced across Caduceus’ cheeks and neck, and he wondered for a moment if Fjord could feel his pulse racing below his jawline. This entire encounter felt surreal, like the most visceral daydream, like speaking too loud would make it collapse all around him. “Yes, please,” he managed, subconsciously tilting his head up to him. “I want you to.” _I want you_ \- the thought fluttered through his mind.

The first inquisitive brush of Fjord’s lips against his sent a shudder through him. Caduceus knew about kissing _theoretically_ , but the practice was something else entirely, overwhelming and intoxicating. A hyper-awareness of that single origin of friction made an involuntary pleased noise rise up from Caduceus’ chest. As if in response, he heard Fjord inhale sharply through his nose, then press closer, fingers possessively sliding up into his hairline, tracking the bend of his neck and angling into the kiss. Caduceus swayed, limbs feeling like liquid, chest arching forward as he grasped at Fjord’s tunic for something to anchor himself to.

When Fjord’s mouth parted, tongue tracing Caduceus’ lower lip, the cleric pulled back with a soft gasp. He felt flushed. _Flustered_ , as he tried to catch his breath. In the small space between them, Fjord chuckled, looking chagrined. “Sorry. Got a little, uh, carried away there. This alright?”

Caduceus felt a delighted brand of incredulous wash over him, bright and exhilarating as his eyes half opened. He was the kind of person folks went to for advice, but not the kind of person to look at the way Fjord was looking at him now. The paladin’s expression was unshuttered intensity, openly taking in Caduceus’ features, a display of what Caduceus realized with a jolt was desire. The idea that this man that _he_ wanted was apologizing for getting enthusiastic over _him_ …

“Actually,” Caduceus murmured, voice a soft rumble. “I’d be particularly alright with you getting more carried away, if you felt so inclined.”

Caduceus watched Fjord swallow, throat bobbing, eyes alight with that new emotion that he wasn’t familiar with but desperately wanted to know. Their lips touched again, Caduceus unsure of who leaned closer first. Regardless of whoever was at fault, it was Fjord who took responsibility for the transgression. The curl of his fingers against Caduceus felt possessive, protective, and all he could do was surrender to it.

Caduceus hummed, soaking in the sensation, and Fjord deepened the kiss again, tongue sliding against his. Another pleased sound slipped from Caduceus into the kiss. He clutched tighter to the fabric on Fjord’s chest, tugging him closer as he clumsily learned the rhythm of Fjord’s mouth against his. Figuring this out seemed frightening at first, but he hadn’t accounted for the driving urge inside of him to touch and explore that drove the curl of his tongue against Fjord’s.

The paladin pulled back for a moment, grin automatically rakish with those tusks. “You’re good at this.”

“Quick study,” he whispered back.

Fjord seemed to bite back a groan, then pulled back a little more. “Speaking of… I want to say that… absolutely whatever is fine.” His thumb brushed under Caduceus’ eye, a reassuring caress of his cheekbone. “I’m game for anything, but if you want this to be slow or not go at all, I’m cool with it. You just tell me what you want.”

What did he want?

“I want…” Squashing any lingering nerves, Caduceus licked his lips. “I… want to learn, and to keep kissing you. I want you close. More of this seems real good.” Now that he had kissed him, it seemed difficult in this moment to tear his eyes away from his mouth. “And… I don’t want to rush, if that’s alright with you. Maybe we start with this and see where that takes us.” He laughed a little. “I’m just enjoying you.”

The half-orc grinned again in response, no trace of hesitation or disappointment in his expression. “That sounds just perfect.” Fjord collided their lips again, and Caduceus pulled at his tunic again, more urgently drawing him closer. A knee slid onto the chair next to Cadueus’ leg. The hand at his jaw slid down, trailing over his neck before sliding under the collar of his gossamer shirt, tracing his collarbone, feather-light. Even a caress as simple as that had Caduceus shivering. His hands automatically slid down to Fjord’s hips, delight zipping through him as he traced over muscle and the slight curve of his waist, and Fjord hummed with pleased assent. It felt like a blessing to touch him freely like this.

Now that permission was granted, Fjord’s kissing became eager, insistent. He clearly had experience and knew what he was doing, and this was an instance where Caduceus was extremely okay with being the one receiving new knowledge. Fjord’s other knee mirrored the first on the chair, and Caduceus couldn’t help but tighten his hold on his hips as Fjord settled his weight in Caduceus’ lap. The paladin was always strong, and had even gained more musculature after his rebirth, but he felt smaller in Caduceus’ embrace like this. He couldn’t help running his hands up and down Fjord’s hips and waist, admiring the transition from trim muscle to hipbones and back.

The kissing and mapping out of shoulders, learning the cartography of muscles and the sweet bend of one leaning into the kiss of another morphed over time from fervent, sudden attention to soft, affectionate caresses. Eventually, the fire crackling and their metered breathing were the only sounds as they leaned their foreheads together, Caduceus running his hands slowly up and down Fjord’s back, Fjord playing with the tangled pink and white curls and braids of hair. The urgency to kiss was slowly traded for this comfort without a name.

“So.” After a long span of time without words, Fjord’s voice had the weight of determined decision behind it, the way it did when he had gathered the will to do something. He took a deep, slow inhalation, exhaled, fingers curling in the ends of Caduceus’ hair. “I love you.”

The proclamation burned like the most pleasant hot water, elation surging in Caduceus’ chest. It was one thing to succumb to affection and kissing like they just had, which he willingly allowed himself to drown in, but to hear this from Fjord, so sure and so confident in his meaning… “So,” he replied conversationally, hearing the delighted warmth rumble in his own voice. “As luck would have it, I love you too.”

Fjord’s breathed a huff of laughter, lifting his head up enough for their gazes to meet. His lips were quirked up as he thumbed one of Caduceus’ winding braids. “Is this a recent thing? Or am I really that much of an idiot and should have figured things out sooner?”

“Neither.” Caduceus allowed himself the liberty of tracing a fingertip over the knobs of vertebrae at the top of Fjord’s back, up and down. “To be fair, I didn’t realize I was trying to court you all this time.”

Fjord hummed in assent, leaning back into his touch a little. “Didn’t realize I was being courted. I think both of us could have been a little less thick about it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe things worked out the way they were meant to at the right time. Things like this, and you… makes me believe in fate more than ever.”

The paladin didn’t respond, but wrapped his arms around Caduceus’ neck, tucking his face against his neck. The cleric returned the embrace, inhaling the scent of his rarely-used cologne lingering on his skin.

A few minutes of that comfortable embrace passed before Fjord murmured, voice muffled. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I remember you saying you’ve never… been with somebody. That go for relationships too? Never been in a relationship before?”

“Never. Never had the time, or the opportunity, or the right person.” As Fjord straightened, Caduceus smiled a little. “And that’s alright. You might have to be patient with me as I get up to speed.”

Fjord cupped his face again, an echo of the touch from before they started kissing. “Don’t mind at all.” Suddenly Fjord’s eyes widened slightly, and he cursed under his breath as he sat up, reaching into his pocket. “Damn… sorry, I…” Laughing a little, he pulled something out of his pocket, fist clenched around something small. “Just… close your eyes for a sec?”

Gamely, Caduceus shut his eyes, trusting whatever was coming next. After a moment, he felt the trail of fingertips and cord around his neck, something being fastened at his nape.

He opened his eyes to find a driftwood and sea glass pendant resting against his chest. “Oh,” he breathed, wonder and bubbling happiness tumbling through him.

“I've been waiting on this,” Fjord murmured, an echo of a conversation between them that seemed eons ago. His eyes flickered as they traced over Caduceus’ face, fingertips following in their wake. “You’re just… always doing things for us. For me. Anything and everything, without question, and I finally have the courage to give it all back to you.” His voice took on a low hum, full of promise. “Caduceus… Let me be good to you. Let me court _you_. Be mine.”

Caduceus’ eyelashes fluttered as he inhaled, breath caught, emotion a tight lump in his throat.

“ _Yes_.”

Their tea had gone cold, and Caduceus didn’t even care at all.

-

Eventually, Caduceus opened up the invitation to rest together, loathe to be apart from Fjord now, and they made their way through his miniature forest (large terrarium?) to his bedroom. They used to share inn rooms all the time, but never sharing a bed. Usually he opted to sleep on the floor out of a respect for personal space, now recognizing that the notion had partially to do with him not wanting to betray anything going on with him subconsciously by being too close to Fjord. He turned down the covers, wondering how it would feel to sleep next to someone you had affection for.

“Your bed is _way_ bigger than mine.” Pulling his linen shirt over his head and discarding it onto the floor, Fjord climbed onto and leaned back on the bed, stretching, arms flexing as he spread out. The sight lit an ember in Caduceus’ mind, and he filed it away for contemplation later.

“Means there’s plenty of room for both of us, right?”

“Nah, nonsense. I’m a no-good boyfriend if I don’t give you a proper cuddle.” Fjord patted the bed immediately next to him. “C’mere, darling.”

The new words short-circuited Caduceus’ mind, making his pulse trip over itself. Such easy affection, directed at _him_ , felt like an embarrassment of good fortune. He had convinced himself that he didn’t get to want anything at all, and the world instead led him to a beautiful man in his bed, using terms of endearment on him, wanting him close.

After taking a moment to muster his thoughts and a quick Thaumaturgy to blow the lanterns out, Caduceus tucked himself under the covers, scooting closer to Fjord. The paladin slid his arm under Caduceus’ neck, pulling him near. They rearranged, and Caduceus ended up half sprawled on top of him, cheek resting against his warm chest as Fjord tucked his head under his chin.

“There,” Fjord breathed, arm curling around his shoulders. “Perfect.”

It was all flustering, feeling so much bare skin, to be pulled into a position of feeling small and safe when he was accustomed to being the tallest person in the room, the lookout, the caretaker. He fought through the hesitation and rested his hand on Fjord’s scarred chest, watching it move along with his breathing in the darkness as his eyes slowly adjusted.

All this time, Caduceus thought that the path of his life was as assured as wagon wheels worn into the road before him. There was no need to deviate or wonder at anything, because his life was all laid out before him by powers out of his control. And he was _wrong_. This was new, and still a little frightening, but in an exhilarating way that he had never experienced before now. For once it felt like he was making a choice – not in order to be of service or to fulfill destiny’s call, but because it was something that he _wanted_.

“Caduceus?”

His name sounded soft and indulgent on Fjord’s lips, said in the dark like this. “Yeah?”

“I… thank you. I dunno what’s gonna happen when we head up north.” He felt Fjord swallow underneath him. “I’m still afraid. But I’m glad that you’re gonna be there. I’m glad for this. Us.”

Eyes closing, he inhaled slowly, luxuriating in their proximity and the sound of Fjord’s heartbeat under his ear. “So am I. I have no idea what we’re going to face, to be honest.” His fingers spanned over Fjord’s ribs, tracing warm skin, wondering at the liberty granted to do so. “I’m not worried though. Not with you there. You’ve got a lot of miracles left in you.”

The arm around Caduceus held him tighter, and Fjord kissed the top of his head, soft and devoted as a hymn, fervent as a prayer.

**Author's Note:**

> The Mighty Nein Challenge Mode: Ask Caduceus How He's Doing
> 
> If you've read through this work, thank you so much! It's been about five or six years since my last bout of creative writing, so I'm happy to be back in the fanfiction writing game.


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